Page 19 of Torn

I cocked my head. “Everything?”

“There’s all these big lavish rooms, games, TVs, and bars stocked with alcohol, pills and coke. Once the guys are finished doing the farm work or whatever, they can go and hang out in there and get blitzed. Honestly, it’s no wonder they all love their little commune so much. It’s the perfect setup for them out there. In return for a bit of field work, they get free beer, food, and entertainment along with sex on tap from the women. At least that’s what we can assume.”

I frowned. “So the women are right there in the mansion?”

“No. That’s actually what really bothered Jack about the whole thing. The girls and women didn’t seem to be allowed anywhere near the mansion. They also aren’t allowed to have any access to technology. Even stuff as basic as electrical lighting. The so-called Prophet explained it by saying that girls and women are believed by their order to be weak and easily corruptible, and therefore they must be protected from modern things like technology. Apparently they all live together in this other section on the property without electricity or any other modern conveniences.”

“Wow.”

“Jack didn’t actually see any of those houses, because he wasn’t allowed to, but it’s safe to say they’re probably pretty bad. Imagine living with no air-conditioning in the summer down there just because you have a vagina.”

“Yeah. That would be pretty fucked.” I paused and frowned, then went on. “So do the boys and men live in the mansion?”

“No. They spend a lot of their spare time there, but apparently they sleep in the same place on the other side of the property that Jack wasn’t allowed to visit, where the women live and work. But get this—the male section has electricity, unlike the female section.”

“Jesus.”

“Yup…”

“So what do the women do all day in this section of theirs?”

“Cook, clean, and raise the children. Presumably they also provide the men with as much sex as they want.” She rolled her eyes.

“But no one knows for sure?”

“No, they don’t. That’s just what Jack assumed from reading between the lines.”

“And he never saw the women?”

Vlada tilted her head to one side, lifting one brow. “Actually, he did.”

“Seriously?”

Vlada pressed her lips together for a few seconds. “He said he got a sudden terrible vibe from the Prophet when he asked about the women. Like the guy was hiding something really, really fucked up. So he strongly implied to the Prophet that he thought the women were all being kept in chains as sex slaves, and that he might have to ask the authorities to launch a full-scale investigation into their practices. Of course, he doesn’t really have the power to do that. He just wanted to see what would happen if he said it. Anyway, the Prophet told him to wait, and then he went and got a bunch of the women.”

My shoulders tensed. “What happened then?”

“He told these women—well, girls, really—to say hello to Jack and tell him how their lives are in New Eden. Jack said they all seemed kinda dazed, like they might’ve been drugged, and their answers seemed very rehearsed. But they all said they were happy and felt extremely fortunate to be living there after all the terrible things that have happened to the world. The Prophet also asked them to confirm for Jack that none of them had ever been abused, and they all said that was true. Then they repeated how happy they were, how much they loved serving their God, and how grateful they were to the men for keeping them safe.”

I rubbed my chin. “So it’s possible to talk to the women there. Sort of.”

“I guess so. But Jack was only allowed that very brief interaction with them. He wasn’t able to speak with them privately.” She sighed, and then her face brightened. “He got photos, though.”

“What? Really?”

“The cult members had no idea, but he was wearing one of those little spy cameras in his shirt pocket the whole time. It automatically snaps a shot every thirty seconds.”

“Why aren’t these photos available online?” I asked. “I’ve never heard of them.”

“The college was worried they would get sued by the commune if they published them freely online, because they’re so private, and apparently Jacob Chastain used to have a reputation back in the day for being extremely litigious. So they’re only available on a private sociological journal site. You can’t see them unless you have a college student or staff login. It was a super obscure paper that Jack wrote, too, so hardly anyone even knows it’s there. Otherwise I’m sure the photos would be available all over the net.”

“Do you still have an ID and password?” I asked, curious about the photos. “I presume you had one for your studies.”

“Yes, I think it’d still work.” Her eyebrows pinched together, and she leaned forward. “Seriously, why are you so curious about this place?”

“I told you why,” I said.

She crossed her arms and flashed me one of those looks women are famous for when they don’t believe you.

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